The Bravest of Them All
by The Homeless Poet
Summary: A secret from Reid's past is revealed, and to stop a sadistic serial killer he must relive his worst nightmares... Reid!centric, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, completely AU, and totally based off cr8zymommy's amazing fic 'Luctor et emergo'. See description inside for disclaimers and explanation.


**Warnings: **discussion of extreme child abuse, torture, underage, and non-con (seriously guys this is a pretty dark conversation so turn back now or forever hold thy peace) (although it is just that - a conversation - so there is no actual gore or non-con)

**Spoilers: **mild ones for character backstory (eg: JJ, Morgan), and stuff that happened ages ago (eg: Tobias Henkel, George Foyet)

**Disclaimer: **this is extra not mine. Like, actually nothing is mine. The words are mine. That is it. The characters belong to whoever owns Criminal Minds, the universe and basic scenario belongs to cr8zymommy. If I have stepped on your toes in any way, please yell at me and I will delete this immediately, no hard feelings.

**A/N: **Okay so this is probably going to sound really really weird. Basically, this is a like a missing/extended scene _from another fic_. So what happened is I read cr8zymommy's _amazing_ AUfic 'Luctor et emergo' and actually could not get it out of my head, so this is like a fanfic of a fanfic. Fanficception!

I don't know if this is an acceptable thing to do in fandom. I've not seen it anywhere else, but I haven't stolen any of the actual fic, just the universe. However, if I have committed some terrible sin _please do tell me. I won't be offended. _In fact, I'm kinda expecting to have to take this down almost immediately.

And if you are cr8zymommy... I'm really sorry. I truly am. If you hate me and want me to take this down, of course I will, please just tell me. But however you feel, I think you should know that your AU just stuck in my head _so badly_. You, my dear, are a fic writing genius, and I love you to pieces. (Also write a sequel pretty please.)

Anyway. This scene would fit into 'Luctor et emergo' about halfway through Chapter 9. You can read this without having read 'Luctor et emergo'. It would make more sense to read the other story first (and let's face it, why _wouldn't_ you, it's a beautiful fic), but this oneshot pretty much explains all you need to know to get along =]

* * *

'Please state your name for the tape.'

To say that the atmosphere inside the interrogation room was tense would be like calling the sahara desert 'warm'. Every precaution had been taken to ensure that Reid would be as comfortable as possible during what could only be a horrific experience for him. Morgan had even impressed upon the kid that not only did the interview not have to take place _now_, it didn't have to take place _at all_. But Reid, ever determined, ever dismissive of his own comfort, had been adamant that they continue. And Hotch could understand why: it was the same reason JJ had been so vehement in her pursuit of the UnSub in that suicide case, the same reason Morgan became more determined in cases involving child molesters, the same reason he had thrown himself into catching Foyet. This case was personal, and Reid would do anything to stop someone else from suffering the way he had. How did that proverb go? 'The saddest people are the kindest because they do not wish to see others suffer as they had'? Something along those lines, anyway. Reid would probably know. Hotch almost smiled. Almost.

And now, Hotch, Morgan, and JJ were standing on the other side of the one-way mirror, watching Reid sitting in that cold interrogation room, hands clasped in his lap, one knee bouncing up and down nervously. He almost looked like he was praying. When Prentiss spoke, for a moment it seemed as though he hadn't heard, and she was just debating whether to repeat the request for his name when he finally looked up.

His voice, when it came, was slightly croaky. 'Doctor- uh,' he stopped, realising his mistake, and cleared his throat, 'Leland McGuire.'

The name felt strange on Spencer's lips, unfamiliar, a remnant of a past he had tried so hard to forget. Saying it again almost felt like giving up. He had always known that he couldn't run for ever, always known that this day would come, but now that it was here he wanted nothing more than to get up and start running again.

But he couldn't. Lives were at stake. So he flashed a nervous smile at Rossi and Prentiss sitting opposite him, and tried to slow his erratic heartbeat.

'And you are 31 years old, correct?' Prentiss' expression betrayed nothing but cool professionalism; that was the reason Hotch had chosen her to lead the interview. Not that Morgan or JJ were incapable, far from it, but because he knew that they might have found it more difficult to remain detached, especially given Morgan's past with child abuse and his tendency for violent outbursts whenever Reid's safety was compromised, and JJ's position as a mother which would make her even more naturally protective of the youngest member of the team. Hotch himself had opted to remain on the sidelines partly to remain as objective as possible, and partly because he knew that it would be all too easy for him to lose it in there, and right now they had to focus on catching a killer, not on gaining retribution for Reid's past trauma.

Spencer shifted slightly before answering. 'Yes.' His throat was dry, the word came out as a barely-intelligible rasp. He licked his lips and tried again, silently berating himself. He had to keep it together. This wasn't only important to him and the team; there was a killer on the lose. Whether their UnSub was McGuire or not, he was killing kids. Leland hadn't been able to save his twin. It was the least Spencer could do to save someone else's.

'Could you please tell us, in your own words, what your relationship to Elijah McGuire is?'

Reid swallowed; even through the glass, the agents in the observation room could feel his apprehension, his discomfort. Spencer tried to tell himself that this was stupid, the rest of the team knew the answer to this question anyway, they'd already seen the case file, read the medical reports, read his _statement_…

He blinked quickly and then straightened up slightly. He wasn't ashamed. He wouldn't give them that. 'When we were babies, just a few days old, we were kidnapped from the hospital where we were born and sold to his parents. We lived with them for nine years, during which time they…' he cleared his throat, feeling his voice trailing off and his trachea closing up; it was a familiar feeling, that sensation of a tongue heavy as lead, words that would refuse to be voiced. Selective mutism was the technical term. Knowing that didn't make him feel any better. But he couldn't freeze up now. When he spoke again, it was with more strength and determination. 'During which time they all played a part in abusing us.'

Prentiss forced her expression to remain neutral. 'I'm sorry, but when you refer to 'us', you mean yourself and… ?'

'Oh,' Reid flushed, embarrassed. 'I mean me and- me and my twin sister, Sp- uh, Lorelai.'

'Thank you. Can you explain to us exactly what role Elijah McGuire had in your abuse?'

He swallowed. 'Uh… yeah.' He paused for a moment, seemingly focused on his hands, which were now resting on the table in front of him. He bit his lip, and continued, his speech jerky and fragmented, nothing like his usual fast-paced verbosity; but he was speaking, and as he continued he fell into a pattern, apparently growing more confident. Morgan felt a swell of pride for the man he considered a brother.

'At first, it wasn't too bad. Well. It _was _bad, but it got a lot worse so I suppose looking back I just…' He cleared his throat awkwardly. 'We learnt pretty quickly what we could do to avoid a beating - if there _was_ something we could do. Sometimes there wasn't. For example, Emmeline had us help around the house nearly from the start, and she wouldn't hurt us without reason - or, what she considered reason, at least. She made them up, most of the time... Um, she hit us if we were bad, if we didn't obey or didn't do a job well enough. It was punishment. She- she was spiteful and bitter and hated everyone, and- and she took that out on us.'

He swallowed again, fighting the memories that threatened to bubble up inside and overwhelm him. Just wait until the end. Hold off the breakdown long enough to catch this UnSub. _You are strong. You can do this._

He repeated it like a mantra.

'Ezekiel was… more unpredictable.' He frowned, his brow creasing nervously. His eyes were raw. 'He drank - got angry. You couldn't avoid his beatings. You couldn't avoid Emmeline's either, but… she was vindictive, spiteful. Ezekiel was just angry. All the time. And he liked seeing someone else more hurt than he was.

'Elijah was always different. He… he liked the blood - he liked it… he liked it when we screamed, when we cried.' Reid stopped for a moment, struggling to get his breathing under control, feeling his throat closing up and his heart pounding and the silence was very, very loud. He hadn't had a panic attack for years, he wouldn't have one now; he was already pathetic enough.

_Don't break down. Don't break down. You can do this._

_YOU'RE PATHETIC, LELAND!_

He jumped slightly, breath coming faster, eyes slipping out of focus as they became transfixed on some invisible horror, and Rossi immediately recognized the signs that Reid was slipping into a flashback. God. Even after all these years.

'What's happening?' JJ asked, panic evident in her voice. It felt so terrible to be just _standing _there, separated from him by only a single sheet of glass but completely unable to help her friend, her son's _godfather_.

'Spencer, it's okay, you're safe, you're here. Just listen to my voice, follow my voice, remember that what you're seeing right now isn't real. Remember to breathe for me, kid. You're doing real well. Just breathe. You're safe.' Rossi's voice was reassuring, breaking through the fog of pain and blood and tears that was bombarding Reid's mind, and he clung to his old friend's words.

'I'm okay,' he gasped after a moment. Coming up for air. Drowning. He looked towards the mirror, smiling weakly for those on the other side. 'I'm okay.'

Morgan felt his heart break. Jesus. The kid was having to relive the worst years of his life, and _he _was reassuring _them._ That kid had always been stronger than the team gave him credit for, but they had never fully realized_ how much stronger_… He tried not to think back to the photos in the McGuire file, photos of a nine-year-old Spencer Reid, terrified and hurting, his eyes filled with more grief and pain and fear than anyone, especially a _child,_ should ever have to see. They had been right to question how Reid had survived.

Now, Reid rubbed a hand over his face before sitting further forward on his seat, hunched over the table, and everyone could see that he was making himself a smaller target. They had always attributed his social awkwardness and aversion to touch to some form of Aspergers or OCD; now they knew it was rooted in something far more sinister.

'Between them, we were always waiting for the next beating,' he continued softly, tracing a scratch on the tabletop with one finger. 'I… I can't remember a time before that fear. Even when we were very small, they would hit us. Emmeline favored the bare palm, or- or sometimes her kitchen equipment, like… like a rolling pin or one of her pans. Ezekiel liked to punch or kick, or… or his favourite, the belt.' He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the leather snake across his skin. He still bore the scars. More than enough. 'And Elijah... he _experimented_.' He grimaced at the word, and no one could bring themselves to imagine what that meant.

He took a steadying breath. 'The- uh, the sexual assault started later. I…' A note of embarrassment crept into his voice, 'I, uh, I can't give you any dates or anything. I don't even know what age we where when any of it happened - I mean, I can guess but… We, uh, we didn't really have any concept of time, not until afterwards. We never knew any different, so I suppose we just accepted it?' His voice peaked at the end, forming a question, and it was testament to how uncomfortable he was right now - the old Reid would never have stood for such a blatant grammatical error.

'That's okay,' Rossi said gently, smoothly; and again Hotch was grateful he had put Reid in there with those two particular agents. Prentiss' legendary ability to compartmentalize coupled with Rossi's connection with Reid created the perfect team. 'Just tell us whatever you can think of.'

They were entering the most delicate territory now, and everyone knew it. JJ swallowed. She knew enough about this case to know that absolutely nothing Reid had to say could possibly be good. And he had just been a _child_!

Spencer breathed heavily, biting his lip. He couldn't back out now. And they already knew everything, anyway. So what was the point in hiding it?

'I would guess we were about four when… when Ezekiel started- started touching us. To begin with, it was just… just that, you know? We would, uh, _perform _on him, and… Well, Ezekiel began it, but Elijah quickly picked up on… on what was happening, and how he could… His father _encouraged _him.' His voice broke with horror, and he desperately tried to get his voice back under control. 'But- but even then, it- it wasn't…' He paused, nervously tapping his thumbs together, and then began to speak more quickly, more quietly, almost as if he hoped that, this way, no one would be able to hear him. 'We had maybe a year before the actual… the actual rape started happening, and then I'd guess we were seven before Elijah... before he started to... uh, he started on Lorelai… I think he wanted to be a real man? I couldn't…' His throat was thick, he tried again, ears ringing with a child's pleas. 'I never spoke around them, they thought I was mute, so… He- he chained me to the wall, before he started.' His voice cracked. 'I don't know who screamed more - me or her. We were both crying by the time he was done. She… she was just a kid. And there was so much blood… She was so little, and there was so much blood.'

He was crying now, too, hunched over, shoulders shaking, hair fallen over his face, and it was so unusual for him, to cry in front of them, to let his guard down like that - he was usually such a private person - that Prentiss felt her mask slipping. Ah, to hell with it. Her friend was hurting, the least she could do was try to comfort him. She leaned fowards and grasped his hand, but Reid jumped like he'd been electrocuted, flinching away from her touch, drawing even further in on himself. Prentiss drew her hand away sharply, shocked. Of course he didn't want to be touched right now. She should have known better. _Idiot_.

Reid coughed sheepishly and offered up a watery smile. 'Sorry. I just…'

'Don't apologize.' That came out more forcefully than she meant it to, she winced and softened her tone. 'You have nothing to apologize for, okay? I understand, Reid.' She kept her tone as reassuring as she could, but it took all her strength not to betray just how much her heart was aching. 'You know, we don't have to do all this now - if you want a break or something…' She left the suggestion hanging as her voice trailed off weakly. She felt so helpless.

Spencer licked his lips, considering her offer. On the one hand, he wanted nothing more than to leave this hateful room as soon as possible, get up and run, never look back… And it was so _tempting_… But he knew that his team needed the truth. He owed it to them: they were his team, his friends, his family. And he knew that if he left, he might never come back.

He took a steadying breath and smiled slightly. 'No, I'm okay,' he said again, stronger this time. 'I can do this.'

_We know you can, kid_, Morgan thought, and his tears threatened to overflow with all his sympathy for his friend's pain, and respect for Reid's quiet strength.

'Ezekiel never went as far as Elijah. I mean he- he still... but it was brutal, whereas Elijah was... he was just cruel. And as he got older, he got more violent, he experimented more. As a profiler, I'd say that his parents probably abused him before they had us to express their anger on; and this previous abuse left him feeling so powerless in his own life that the only way for him to even have a modicum of control was to exert power over us, which was easy to do given our age and health. And the fact that we stopped putting up a fight very early on. He was a textbook sexual sadist and psychopath. He derived a lot of pleasure from watching others suffer, and he often talked about how he would improve on his father's techniques. The… the torture was initiated by Ezekiel, but eventually they all became involved. Emmeline's part was more psychological - she played upon our fears, for example-' Reid's voice, explaining his fear of the dark, rang in everyone's minds: '_darkness is an inherent absence of light' _- 'denied us food, split us apart. Ezekiel was blunter, cruder. He saw us as property. Hence the brand. 'M' for 'mine'. He liked that.'

To his credit, Reid's voice barely wavered now as he spoke, and he had become stronger as he continued. Somehow he had managed to reach a degree of detachment - Rossi had seen it the last time the poor kid had been forced to give a statement - and he had taken on a factual, bland, flat tone. The fact that he was able to take that step back and _profile _his tormenters spoke volumes. That kid was one tough cookie all right.

'Elijah had all the cruelty of both his parents, the bitterness of his mother, and the violence of his father. He perpetually strove to outdo his father, and he was always inventing new ways to hurt us. In many ways, he scared us the most.' He coughed and looked down at his hands, brow furrowing as he strove to keep the memories at bay. Just a little longer...

There was a long pause, broken only by the soft sound of JJ dabbing at her tears which had long since overflown. Morgan would have turned away to hide his own distress, except he couldn't look away from his friend. Reid seemed so tiny out there, hunched in on himself, fiddling with his long fingers, lacing them together again and again and twisting his mouth as thoughts and images no doubt raced through his mind. Not for the first time, Hotch cursed his friend's eidetic memory; the kid had been through hell, and was literally unable to forget a single second of his torture. How many times had his mind forced him to relive it in perfect detail?

'Is that… Is that useful?' Reid asked finally, squinting across at Rossi.

The older man's voice was warm. 'Yeah, kid. You did good.'

Prentiss waited for Reid to correct him - _'it's 'you did well', Rossi, good is an adjective'_ - but the words never came. The silence stretched on, and she bit her lip, hating herself for what she was about to do.

'You hardly mentioned Elijah in your testimony at the time, could you explain why you have changed your mind now?'

Reid fidgeted uncomfortably. 'I… At the time, I was… under a lot of stress.' His lip curled at the under-exaggeration. 'I wanted to say as little as possible so I focused on the main perpetrators and the worst, uh, traumas. Elijah wasn't ever as involved as his parents, we just found him frightening because… because he was unpredictable, and because he didn't act out of anger or a desire to punish us. He just liked to hurt us.'

JJ felt her heart tug. The things those two kids had been through… there weren't words. Reid - their Reid, _her _Reid - hadn't been much older than _Henry_ when this started. She felt sick.

'Do you remember anything specific, Reid?' Prentiss asked, as gently as she could. 'Anything Elijah might have said or done that could help us link these killings to him? Anything in his MO?'

Spencer paused anxiously, pulling a wayward strand of hair behind his ear. 'Um… he liked knives?' Again, a question, and Hotch realized he was seeking approval. Almost like he was afraid of saying something wrong. Like he would be punished.

That thought was too painful to be dwelt upon.

'He.. He _really _liked knives. He, um, he also liked it if we fought- if we fought back, not... not too much, just a little… I think that's why he preferred me, he saw my inability to speak as- as some kind of defiance.' He drew in a breath. 'He got so angry at me.'

They didn't need him to say any more - they'd all read the file. Little Leland McGuire had suffered countless injuries during the first nine years of his life. The hospital reports alone suggested that nearly every bone in his body had been broken at some point or other, some ribs even more than once, and the scars littering the child's body had told the same story. And then there was his testimony…

Reid was a miracle. It was a miracle he hadn't died during those nine years in hell, a miracle he had survived when he sister had not, a miracle he was here, alive, in this line of work… No wonder Tobias Henkel had hit him so hard. No wonder he was always so good at sympathizing with both the victim and the UnSub. It all brought back memories. It was a miracle that he was so strong, so humble, so kind, even after everything he had been through.

He was the bravest of them all. Oh, he may not run into danger as thoughtlessly as Morgan, but he still ran, and they knew the bravery it must take for him to move at all.


End file.
